


Body Slave

by Miss_Von_Cheese



Series: Rhy & Pu-rat-tu [1]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Vengeance
Genre: Bottom Agron, Boundaries, Consent discussions, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Nasir's body is a thing of heaven, Overcoming Body Issues, Smut, Top Nasir, like there's just that sex and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 06:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16907973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Von_Cheese/pseuds/Miss_Von_Cheese
Summary: Agron wants his "little man" to be on top, forgetting that Nasir's only experience in this position was not a good one.





	Body Slave

**Author's Note:**

> There is a serious lack of top!Nasir fanfics, or scenes in the show btw, and it got me thinking that it probably isn't a place that reminds him good memories.
> 
> I feel like I should TW anyway, mentions of past abuse and slavery ; I mean, if you've watched the show you are already aware that Nasir's very first scene is his master asking him to fuck him like he's some sextoy, so yeah... that got me thinking about how he would feel if Agron asked him to do the same. Anyway, this is angst and smut, angst balanced with enough fluff to rot your teeth, that stuff is my kryptonite, what can I say?
> 
> Set during "Vengeance", when they are at Lucius' temple, but before Agron and Crixus reconciled.

Echoes of laughter and sounds of empty cups crashing to the floor filled the room as Nasir fell backward on the bed he shared with his companion in the old temple. His skin shivered for a moment, cold and lonely absent Agron's touch, a displeasure the German quickly chased by crawling against him. Warm flesh against warm flesh, there was their righteous place, grinding into each other’s arms in search for the kind of passion and peace only their embrace could provide.

“I was blessed by the Gods to be allowed to lay hands on such a glorious body,” Agron growled against his lover's throat, fingers kneading his chest like he would a woman's bosom. 

Nasir let out a gasp, voice slightly breaking with doubt. His fingers trembled against the thick fur blanket they were resting on. “I fear too much wine has obscured your judgement, my love…” 

Agron’s laugh was warm, comforting as honey to a sick child. His hands grabbed and held onto Nasir's smaller frame with envy, lust, and possessivity only an idiot in love could express. 

“Even blind I could see your beauty,” he oathed, planting kisses on brown skin like seeds of more intense pleasures to come. “Even deaf I would enjoy the sweet sound of your voice, even dead I would enjoy your kisses…”

His laughter redoubled as Nasir choked, “I, for one, would not enjoy kissing your corpse!” 

Their chuckles died in their throats as once again tongues met and they kissed like tomorrow would never come. Through his lover's touch, Nasir was learning, slowly but surely, to love himself again. He, Nasir, thick long hair and toned skin, forced to remain a boy for too long to follow the whims of his dominus. Although Spartacus had freed his mind from servitude, showing him he was but a human being who deserved better than bondage, it's Agron's passion that had liberated his body and made him a man. 

Body slave. That had been an honor, the fateful day Nasir -- no, Tiberius, had heard the words in his dominus’ mouth. In a house where all non Romans were treated as inferiors, those who were willing to execute any order to gain privilege were not to blame. Among slaves, survival of the most submissive was law. Until Spartacus had proved them otherwise. 

Nasir recalled the gifts his new position had brought: better care, better food, his own private strigil, even wine on occasions. A room of his own close to his master's chambers, the right to follow him everywhere bore the pleasure of walking in the streets again, among other people, warm sun on his face. Blessings Nasir now saw for what they were: gold painted shackles, sometimes even crueler than regular ones. He had believed in them, his status in this house surely meant he was a good man? A virtuous, honorable man rewarded for his actions. He later understood that the only good he had been before was a good dog. A trained puppy who would wet the floor upon receiving praise. Now when praises flowed out of Agron's wide enamored grin, gushing with sincerity and love, Nasir felt he could never again settle for the crumbs of affection he once received. 

His body had been the key to his survival for too long. Now, however, and only since the horde of rebels had entered his life a few weeks ago, Nasir was starting to embrace his physical form. Agron's touch reminded him how sensitive he was, how skin connected to heart, how fingers brushing his contours created waves that rippled through flesh inside his whole body. Every time warm lips sheathed his cock, it felt as through a ritual to Bacchus began, Agron savouring him like the finest meal, making his heart bounce in his chest and his back arch in pleasure. 

Nasir did not feel loved in these precious moments, he felt revered, honored like a god upon the Olympus. Agron worshipped him with his hands, his mouth, his cock, his whole body, making him his as much as offering himself. None of them was possessed nor owned anymore, they both shared, exchanged, feelings and sensations as well. Under Agron's thrusts, Nasir slowly recovered his own life, hearing his name moaned at the peak of passion he forgot he once was called Tiberius. Everything was falling into place, more than it had ever been in his short life. 

A willing prisoner to the toothy kisses on his neck, Nasir wrapped his legs around Agron's thighs to keep him close, so close, and swiftly dipped his fingers in the jar of oil that had not left their bedside since that first time they became intimate. His hips trembled in anticipation for the pleasure he knew would soon come. He longed for the slow burn, the strength his soulmate would thrust inside him, sharing his wild energy. They rolled onto their side, but as Nasir placed his slippery hand on his man's cock, Agron stopped his gesture with a gasp.

“No… not tonight!” 

Nasir frowned, then quickly shook his head with a smirk as he understood intent. 

“Aah… you wish to get acquainted with my mouth, my love?”

Agron let out a trembling sigh, dimples hollowing in his cheeks at the thought.

“A much tempting offer,” he swallowed, licking his dry lips. “That I shall save for later. No… no, tonight you fuck me, little man!” 

Nasir's mouth opened in surprise, just before it let out a shocked gasp as Agron placed oily fingers over him. Betraying hips tilted forward to bury him further into the warm and soft fist, before Nasir weakly voiced his concern.

“Wh--what?” 

“What surprises you?” Agron smiled, amused by his confusion. “Do you think I mistake you for my favourite? You're my man, my warrior, my equal, and I expect nothing less for us in the bedroom.” 

Saying so, his hand coated Nasir with a copious amount of oil, a sensation already hard to bear. His brow raised a bit with concern and his look grew cautious at the shorter man’s hesitation.

“Do you not want it? My ass begs for a good,” he kissed Nasir's cheek, then his neck and collarbones to punctuate his sentence, teasing yet proving himself worth loving as always. “Hard... Syrian pounding…” 

Nasir instinctively tilted his head back, leaving room for beloved lips, but a cold stream was running down his chest and stomach and his body usually so prone to being worshipped now turned into a statue despite all the sweet ministrations. Like a young girl having drank too much wine, his world became blurry and his vision covered by a fog. He followed Agron’s moves without meaning it, heard his aroused laughter from afar. Why did he sound so far? Like Nasir was under water, in the depths of the ocean, barely hearing those who called him from the shore. His hand was working between his lovers’ thighs, spreading, stretching, curling, dipping. 

Making love to Agron often felt like a dream, the kind of steamy dreams that wet beds and stains sheets, but today it felt like a confusing illusion. Nasir barely felt himself settle between strong legs, his smile was a forced act and his will nonexistent. Like brushing teeth or removing clothes, his moves were absent passion or desire. A slave struggling to walk forward paralyzed by shackles. He did not understand what was going on but he hated it. Or he would have hated it if he had felt anything at all. 

He saw behind the clouds darkening his gaze Agron arching his back with a luscious moan, heard his joyful cry, a praise perhaps, whose words he could not understand. The feeling of drowning lasted for a moment, out of space and time. It's only when he felt Agron's grip on his forearms and his concerned tone, that Nasir's soul resurfaced and he took a deep breath.

He was still sheathed deep inside Agron but his favorite warrior, propped on his elbow, was looking at him with great concern. 

“What's happening to you, little man?” the deep voice asked without a single drop of humor, all smile and dimples gone. 

Nasir took a deep breath, slid backwards on the bed, out and far from the warm body underneath him, and stuttered “Apologies! I--I need a moment…” 

He swiftly got to his feet, fled from the scene of his pain to pour some wine straight down his throat, followed by his faithful guardian. Agron was the one who looked like a puppy now, head tilted and eyes full of worry. The burn of cheap wine awakened Nasir's throat but the young man could not express his trouble yet. He took another deep breath, accepted with gratitude the warm embrace offered. The scent of Agron's sweat filled his nose and touched his heart, opening the gates to the flood of his emotions. 

“I am sorry,” he mumbled. “So sorry, I…”

“Don't be, Nasir,” the tall warrior pleaded, using his real name instead of tender aliases, like he only did in important occasions.

“I'm sorry… I don't know… how -- don't know how…” 

Agron slightly pushed Nasir away, hands clutching his muscular shoulders with a comforting smile. “ Why the sudden lack of confidence? I think you were doing a more than decent job, my friend, what leads you to believe you don't? To me you surely know how to make your man happy…”

Nasir looked down, fluttering lashes hiding his deep brown eyes, his voice but a whisper. “I was trained to do that.” 

In a swift moment Agron's jaw went slack and the weight of understanding crashed upon his broad shoulders. He took a step back, mouth open on a sorry sigh, shook his head in reprobation for his own behavior. 

“I'm such a dumb fuck, I should never have demanded… oh, what kind of mindless idiot would ask this of you,” he protested sadly, a hand running through his own short hair. 

As strange as it may have sounded, the handsome German's self despair was what helped Nasir reconnect to the man he was proud to call his companion. His face broke into a soft smile and he gently squeezed the round arms. “You are not responsible for what others may have done to me, don't blame yourself!” 

Agron placed his lips on Nasir's forehead, barely tilting his head down, “Yet I should have thought of it before I asked, after all you told me about your past life. I am yours for a while, soul and body alike, I am not your one night whore.” 

Nasir managed to respond to the warm embrace, the comfort of loved arms chasing dark memories away. His heart's panicked pace was soon replaced by the tranquil beats caused by love and pure affection. He nuzzled Agron's cheek, silently begged for a kiss that was offered too shy, too modest. He could read in the clear eyes how wounded his lover was to have hurt him. How quickly things could change! 

Last month, Nasir was still convinced he held the best position in his life under his dominus’ heel. Not so long after that Agron would only address him, or talk to him with ferocious barks, insult him with the same passion with which he now treasured him, just a few weeks later. This was the magic of this “brotherhood” the gladiators always mentioned. Bonds that were set willingly and not under threat or obligation were the purest, the strongest. 

“So… you never did that on your own terms,” Agron said softly, hands framing Nasir's face. 

The young warrior remained silent for a while, lost in thoughts. He eventually corrected with a crooked smirk, “Tiberius did this on someone else's terms, Nasir never did it at all. I was trained to give dominus what he demanded, when he fucked Chadara, like an olisbos made of flesh, but it is you who taught me how to receive passion and love.”

Agron’s kiss was warmer this time, tender and sweet like a hero from the myths kissing his beloved. His fingers ran through dark locks, caressed neck and shoulders. 

“Your way,” he murmured, like a promise. “Doing it your way is all I ever desired. You never had a say in this, never could choose, but what I would have with you is… your way. Only what you enjoy, what you like. What you want.”

Nasir opened his mouth to voice that he had no idea what he desired, what he could possibly want, or need, or even appreciate, but Agron added, “And if your way is not to do it at all, then so be it, my love.” 

Agron walked back until he could sit on the edge of the bed, fingers still entwined with Nasir's, and pulled him to find a place between his thighs. Tender kiss turned into a more heated one as large hands kneaded his back. Nasir could not resist nibbling on that bottom lip devouring him. 

“How could I know my way?” he purred against Agron's mouth. “My most treasured moments so far have been when you treated me like the god of your chambers.” 

“Hmmm aren't you?” Agron replied with a tender chuckle. “Worry not, my handsome fearless little man, if you ever want to find out, I'll be there.” 

Nasir took a deep breath then exhaled slowly, steadying his mind. Only a few weeks after laying eyes upon each other for the very first time, their hearts already swore to be together until death. An oath that did not seem difficult to respect given current situation, yet if their lives were to be short, they ought to be filled with shared passion. 

“What is it that you like the most when you're inside me?” Nasir asked, knee brushing against his lover's still raised manhood, the undefeated cock as they both called it in private. 

He chuckled as strong hands slid up his thighs to squeeze his buttocks. Agron flashed him his most decadent grin, “Being inside that smooth as silk ass of yours is a reward in itself, because it feels just as soft as it looks and tastes…” 

What did he ever do to deserve a lover so gratuitously fond of him? Nasir would never know. He shook his head, eyes smiling.

“And I love to please you,” Agron added, cock twitching at the evocation of their most intimate moments. “These noises you make when you're enjoying yourself are music to my ears. When you beg me to go harder, faster… dozens of people have shouted my name in the arena but I only need you to moan it to feel at my most powerful. I have killed many men with my bare hands but making you beg for more is my most important victory.” 

Touched by the tender words, Nasir rested his arms around his northern friend’s neck. He bit his lower lip to suppress an insolent smile.

“You make it sounds as if fucking me were a stroke to your ego…” 

“Maybe it is,” Agron shrugged with his oh so unbearable cocky smile. “Never heard you complain.” 

Both men fell into each other's arms, mouths locked in a wild kiss as they rolled on the bed, clinging, clutching, sound of the wine amphora kicked to the ground covered by their wet noises. Between moans and deep kisses, Agron pushed Nasir onto his back and pinned his hands above his head, hips pushing down against him for good measure.

“What do you think you're doing?” Nasir asked with a smirk.

Agron licked a long strip down his arm, falling right into the hollow bush of his armpit. Nasir shivered; with him he wasn't just loved as a boy or as an object but as a man of flesh and bones, a warrior, his equal. A still new concept he was quickly getting used to.

“I'm about to make you scream my name like these bare chested girls in the crowd of the arena,” Agron promised, inhaling deeply. “Your intoxicating scent is my special indulgence.” 

Nasir let out a small laugh, partly because soft lips tickled. He shimmied his hips to find himself straddled by his lover. “This was not what we had planned, shall I tell Spartacus you’re one to improvise instead of sticking to the plan?” 

“Shall I show you what Spartacus can stick up his ass?” Agron retorted with a dirty laugh before he added in a more serious tone, “You do not have to, my love. There is nothing I could desire that is worth forcing yourself. Your consent is my law.” 

“And that could be why I love you,” Nasir purred before his mouth was caught in another deep kiss. His hands travelled down Agron's back, muscles dancing under the surface of golden skin, he tentatively slid over his bottom, dared to grip firmly, delighted by the shivers he caused. 

His way? What could be his way? Now that he thought about it, Nasir could understand his lover's words for his ego too was fully satisfied when he took the upper hand in their intimate battles. When strong Agron remained but a kitten at the mercy of his lips, whining for more kisses on his most sensitive areas. 

Nasir melted under the warm touch, craving but not daring. He knew what he had to do, not what he truly wanted. Save perhaps for finding out what his desires were, in the arms of trusted partner. With a sigh he tilted his hips, held onto Agron's waist and guided him back onto his cock, touch firm and slightly commanding. This time there was no fog and Agron's loud gasp against his mouth was more than enough reward. 

“You favor strategy,” Agron chuckled in a low voice the young Syrian had never heard before. “Fuck the man from behind.” 

Nasir trembled at the memories. That night when Agron had first beamed at his fighting skills, and Nasir knew he would soon kiss this unbearable German like his lips were river in the desert. He heard himself reply in a tone that was new as well, “I heard the man deserved it. So arrogant…” 

“Not arrogant, realistic.” 

As always during their private encounters Agron was so full of himself, or at least loved to play it that way, like the chambers were his arena and he made a show for his lover as only crowd. Yet today his moves were not as confident and demanding as usual. He let Nasir's hands push and pull him, control the ride, pliant to his will. He seemed also less able to focus on his words as they were replaced with gasps and low moans. His reactions betrayed the novelty of his position.

Leaning against the comfortable cot, Nasir found he appreciated the change beyond reasons. He unveiled a part of his lover yet unknown, made weaker by passion and another body inside him. Agron's voice was breaking, eyes closing on their own despite his efforts, face flushed like a blushing maid. Through his troubled expression Nasir could project precisely what he was feeling for he was used to these sensations too. He could not believe he was cause of all these sweet torments. Planting feet on the bed he raised his hips, still holding onto his lover's waist like a castaway, and found a more pressing rhythm that had Agron groan in pleasure. 

“By… the Gods…” voice rasped, German accent growing stronger with each thrust. 

Agron's forehead fell to the crook of his neck and Nasir possessively ran a hand behind his head, fingers in his fair hair, to keep him close, right there, right where he belonged. 

“My man… mine,” he growled with a fierce passion he didn't know he was capable of. He instantly regretted words, for they had held different meaning in their past life, but Agron's nod in agreement proved the sentiment was shared and most welcome. 

“Yes… yours…” Agron promised to the sound of thighs slapping against ass. 

Nasir held onto his lover's heavier frame, delirious with the pleasure of filling him with such joy. Knowing this beautiful man, so strong, so confident, this god of the arena surrendered to him on his own left him without words. Using his strength and the environment to his advantage, Nasir balanced them both then rolled them over until he could hover above Agron, resuming his attentions. 

Agron attempted to open his mouth and speak again, yet was silenced by a kiss and a deeper thrust. His moan vibrated against Nasir who loved to make him lose words. 

The Syrian found the map of his desires was slowly drawing itself, in his mind. He wanted the kisses, tongues searching, lips begging, the intimacy that no master could ever steal or mimic. Those kisses belonged to them only, they were their freedom, seized upon the sweetest battlefield. 

One of his hands went to the back of his own head and removed the thin leather lace that held his hair tied, dark locks instantly flowing down his shoulders. Tiberius had to be pale, clean and brushed like a doll, this was a thing from the past. Nasir could be himself, hair a curly, skin as dark as he wished. A flash of pure lust in his eyes showed how Agron enjoyed the sight and his hands could not help but seek to touch. 

“I-- I truly am blessed by Jupiter tonight,” he panted, lips trembling. 

Nasir shook his head with a laugh. “Jupiter would fuck you then leave you to his woman's wrath. I would do no such thing.” 

“Oh!” Agron moaned, back arching under a rough thrust. “The wrath of your cock feels enough of a punishment so far!” 

As much as he tried to remain serious, Agron could not help smiling, locking his eyes to his lover's to search for approval or discomfort. Nasir heard himself promise, eyebrow raising “You have not witnessed anything yet!”

Now this was what he loved the most, to make that big mouth unable to form words, to empty his mind from thoughts. He did not dislike his lover’s confidence as much as the fuckin’ Gaul did, but it was a pleasure to tame him if only for a moment. 

Nasir pinned Agron’s hands to the bed and rolled his hips harder, focused on his pleasure, cautious not to meet discomfort or pain. The task was the same but the reward much different this time. He was truly happy to serve his companion’s pleasure; absent coercion, only remained his urgent need to make Agron feel good --a mission well accomplished judging from the sounds filling his ears. Strangled moans, choked praises, loud sighs. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Agron chanted to the rhythm of his thrusts, every move leaving him breathless. His head rolled on the thick fur covering the bed and he carefully looked for Nasir’s gaze, calloused hand resting on his cheek. “Is that as good for you as it is for me, my love?” 

His beautiful smile could not hide his concern, his genuine desire for Nasir to have a good time, if not better than his. Once again Nasir found himself unable to answer. He slowed down his moves, felt his fair warrior relax underneath him.

“Of course, it is. Why wouldn’t it be?” Nasir breathed out, still sheathed deep inside his companion. To avoid his curious gaze he lowered his head, kissed offered lips once again, rougher, not sparing Agron from his teeth. Was it good for him? Yes. He teased, “What is it, do you need me to reassure you about the warm welcome your ass is giving me?”

Yes, being able to give his lover so much, so selflessly, was a blessing. It was a way to thank him for those breathless nights, to thank him for bringing Nasir back to life, to be the master of his own fate again. How could he not enjoy it more than life itself? 

“Good,” Agron whispered before he started nibbling on his ear again. 

Nasir couldn’t contain a chuckle under one of his favorite caresses. Teeth on his earlobe sent sparks all over his body, spine tensing, stomach clenching in pleasure. And as Agron’s hands gently ran into his hair to massage his scalp, Nasir blinked slowly, realizing he was indeed allowed to find his own pleasure in fucking his man. He did not have to control himself, or patiently wait until the other was done. He was not a voiceless toy anymore, serving his dominus for some privileges. He would not be reprimanded for enjoying the moment. Agron did not want to be served, he wanted to share. Despite all the respect the newly arrived Germans had quickly learned to show to “Agron’s little man”, Nasir knew it was not innocent for a man like him to give himself so freely to a shorter, weaker boy. He knew it was proof for deep feelings. 

Nasir smiled against Agron’s shoulder, moves still frozen. He was, but for a moment, a free man in every regard. Romans were searching for them, they would probably die soon, so every passing second of life was a blessing to be fully enjoyed. He was free to take what he wanted, trusting himself not to grab more than what Agron consented for. He was allowed to feel. 

Agron seemed to appreciate the warm embrace, a welcome break after his first ride. Nasir let himself feel how their stomachs and chests rose together, moving like waves on the shore. Under his navel he could sense the hardness of Agron’s cock trapped between their bodies. Strong thighs locked around his hips in a silent promise to never let him go. And the warmth, almost too hot, like a pyre, where they met and became one. 

Nasir drew back slowly, careful, before plunging forward deeper, eyes closing for the feelings he let himself experience were much too strong. He let out a soft cry, shocked by the intensity of his pleasure he had ignored for too long. It was not good, it was worse. Agron formed the tightest sheath around him, a grip Nasir would never see leave if given opportunity. He clutched his lover’s shoulder and used his strength to keep moving, unsure for how long he could bear this. 

This time when his hips’ moves became more urgent, the sound of moist skin hidden under their moans, Nasir could understand why men all around the world kept seeking these pleasures. His whole body was now burning, the sweetest torture. Kneeling straighter on the bed, he guided Agron’s waist between his own spread legs and used balance to thrust harder, faster. Pounding deeper he saw Agron arch with a loud roar. He worried for a second to have hurt him, feared he was going to have to stop, but Agron’s hands slid on the furs to come grab his thighs and keep him close. 

Nasir was close to his release, he knew it although he slightly feared the unknown, but it’s Agron’s broken voice that lost him. “Nasir, Nasir… Nasir…” Small whimpers, his name moaned like a prayer to the gods themselves. A song that meant he loved it, he wanted more, he needed solace. A praise to him, to his person, his identity. Agron did not want his cock nor his body like some replaceable commodities, he wanted everything of him, soul and flesh alike. He wanted all of him, his flaws, his darker sides, his strengths and weaknesses. 

As fire burned in his loins, Nasir managed to wrap his hand around Agron’s cock to fasten his release, and locked teeth on the strong meaty chest underneath his mouth. Pain and pleasure mixed up as they climaxed together, united by a bond that ran deeper than mere brotherhood. Nasir knew he was biting too hard, yet could not resolve to stop as his thrusts grew slower and a stream of warm offering spilled over his chest. 

This time, when Nasir felt his consciousness leave him for a fleeting moment, it was not out of fear or confusion but satiation. Pure joy. Memories of troubled past forgotten between rock hard thighs. He let out a long exhausted moan, stroked his cheek on sweaty skin. In their embrace, covered by his long hair, he felt his body slowly slip out of his lover’s yet refused to move. Gentle hands came to his back, loving touch of a soulmate, he guessed some bruises already bloomed on his waist and thighs were Agron had gripped him so fiercely. 

Breath had not yet returned to its normal pace when he opened his eyes and saw the red mark he had branded on Agron with his teeth. He knew the German would say something, probably tease him, and chose to cut him off with a finger placed on his lips. 

“What can I say, you knew from the start that puppy would bite hands that feed…” 

Agron curled up his nose in a breathless laugh. His fingers jealously played with the mark he would proudly exhibit on bare chest in the morrow. 

“I did not expect him to bite chest that loves,” he sighed, rolling onto his side. His eyes were smiling, the brightest ray of light one ever saw, warm but not dry. He snuggled closer, seeking even more affection after the storm, tenderness Nasir was happy to provide. 

Never before little Tiberius would have dreamt of freedom and now that he touched his with his bare hands, he was glad that it was reachable, even for a few days. Real life was there, between their hearts, in the heat of their bodies. Trainings and orders did not matter, not when they could voice their desires and act upon them. 

“Was it good for you?” Agron asked again, lips brushing his ear, like a vow to never hurt him. 

“My words could not do justice to our encounter,” Nasir managed to reply with a smile. 

In the heat of passion he was always touched to feel his fierce warrior, once gladiator, revealing softer side. Manliness that needed comfort and protection. He ran his hands up Agron’s back, brushed fingertips on the soft fuzz of his cheeks, his lips, his nose. In a moment of deep trust and love, Nasir added, “Gratitude, Agron. For everything.” 

Agron shyly looked away, embarrassed as he always was when required to expose himself, heart harder to open than thighs. The top of his cheeks blushed and he mumbled something that swiftly faded into a warm kiss. 

.

At dawn, the very moment he laid foot on the stairs of the temple, Nasir felt all of the Germans’ eyes on his lover’s chest. Whispers and murmurs filled the yard upon seeing new bruises that covered their exposed skins, but the large mark over Agron’s heart was the most noticed. 

“I see you let another dominus brand you!” Crixus spat with disdain. Nasir flexed his fists, ready to pounce the insolent Gaul, but Agron was first to reply.

“Says the man who would have killed us all to get his woman back!” 

Feeling the situation was about to get heated, Spartacus and other men walked closer. Lugo nodded towards their implicit German leader and asked, common tongue still rough on his lips, “Night was good?” 

Agron flashed him a wide grin, all teeth and dimples, and slid an arm around Nasir’s chest to pull him closer to his side.

“Little man fucks like giant!” he exclaimed, relieving tensions and showing how his private decisions would not be used against him nor his authority. And that they belonged to each other, a vow he would not keep to himself or his chambers only.


End file.
